Fruitcake of Doom
by Mahler Avatar
Summary: When Kim receives the most wrongsick of Christmas gifts, she immediately tries to pass it on. But little does she realize that she's just set in motion a series of cataclysmic events, while hilarity inevitably ensues...
1. A Mysterious Gift

_I've always wanted to try my hand at a KP Christmas fic, but never could come up with just the right hook. Until now…_

_And leave a review, get a reply._

* * *

Christmas at the Possible's was always a festive affair, and this season was even more special as it was Kim's first time back home after her first semester at the University of Paris.

Dr. James Possible gave Kim a big smile. "Well, Kimmie-cub. Welcome back, and Merry Christmas!

Her father handed her a large, elegantly wrapped box. Her eyes went wide with anticipation as she quickly ripped open the package. However, her cheerful demeanor immediately took a nose dive as soon as she saw what was inside.

"Uh, gee. Thanks, Dad."

She held up the elegant green Club Banana jacket, the very same style that she had wanted so badly many years before.

"But isn't this ferociously out of style now?"

James continued to smile broadly, his cluelessness overshadowed by his pride in obtaining the now hard to find item.

"Perhaps, but I paid a pretty penny for it on eFjord. I almost got sniped at the last minute, but with a little computer help from your friend Wade, I got the last bid in under the wire with only .001 of a second to spare! Because _nothing's_ too good for my little girl."

She smiled back weakly, tempted to remind her father once again that she was no longer his "little girl," but instead meekly accepted the proffered gift. She had a fleeting thought about posting it back for sale on eFjord, but dismissed the idea, afraid how it might hurt her father's feelings if he found out. She gave a small sigh as she tentatively tried it on, and was pleasantly surprised at how well it fit. At that moment her Kimmunicator began to beep, happily freeing her from the awkweird moment.

"What's the sitch, Wade?"

"Uh, it's me, KP."

Ron Stoppable's goofy but cheerful face smiled back at her from the tiny screen.

"Just running a little late here at Smarty Mart with all of these last minute Christmas Eve shoppers, but I should be able to clock out and be over in a few minutes, so…"

His voice faded as he noticed the jacket.

"Uh, nice jacket, KP. But didn't that go out of style, like, mucho years ago? Even _my_ underdeveloped sense of style has its limits."

He remained blissfully unaware of Kim's frantic slashing motions to keep quiet.

"Anyway, I should be over in…"

A huge crash was heard in the background. He yelled at someone off screen, "No! The ferrets have to be kept _separate _from the ocelot cages!"

The connection was immediately lost as Kim tried to hold back her laughter.

"Well, Ron is still Ron, in spite of his new command of that Mystical Monkey Power. And that's why I think I'll keep him."

Dr. Anne Possible walked into the room just then. "And I still think he's a good catch, Kimmie, no matter what your father thinks."

James groused, "Now Anne, I just think that if he'd apply himself a little more, he could get into college himself."

"But he _is _holding a steady job, which also allows him to go on the occasional mission with Kim," she countered. "So you _could_ cut him a little slack."

But before James could dispute the matter any further, she quickly added, "Eggnog, anyone?"

Suddenly another large crash was heard, but this time it was from the garage.

Anne smiled knowingly. "Like father, like sons, dear?"

James offered a weak smile as he went to see what mischief Jim and Tim were getting into.

She turned back to her daughter with a confident grin. "Don't worry, Kimmie. He'll come around."

Kim smiled back, "Thanks, Mom. I hope so. At least he hasn't threatened to send Ron into the nearest Black Hole since Ron whipped those Lorwardians last June and helped save the world."

_And permanently won my heart, too, _she mused. _But he's been even more distracted than usual in our recent convos ._ _I wonder if he might be getting ready to propose?_

She blanched as she continued to peruse her boyfriend's recent moods. _Ulp. Or, uh, maybe break up?_

She quickly tried to dismiss that unpleasant thought.

"Uh, how about some of that eggnog, Mom? And better make it a double."

A huge whoosh was heard from the garage, followed by another terrific crash.

Jim and Tim could both be heard yelling, "And we have _liftoff!_"

This was immediately followed by James' stern proclamation, "How many times have I told you boys, no rocket launches from the garage!"

A few minutes later, Ron's scooter was heard pulling up. Kim rushed to the door, where she was greeted by his wide toothy smile.

"Hey, KP. Merry Christmas!"

She replied with a huge kiss, a little more passionate than usual as her parents were both in the kitchen, Jim and Tim having been sent to their rooms for taking out the garage door with their new Mr. Rocket Ultra Xmas Gift Pak. Ironically, James himself had bought it for them just the day before from aisle 18 of the local Smarty Mart.

"And happy Hanukkah to you too, Ron."

"So, how was your first semester at the University of Paree, KP?"

"Really spankin'. And it's actually called the Sorbonne now."

He nodded in understanding. "Yeah, and if I had to sit in classes as long as you've had to, I'd have a sore bun too."

Kim gave him a friendly roll of her eyes. "That's 'Sorbonne,' not 'sore bun,' Ron. Although there have been times…"

She noticed a small package in his hand.

"Oooh, for me?" she fawned.

He blushed as he handed it to her. "Yeah, and it's not a dreidel either."

She quickly tore off the wrapping and opened the tiny box. Inside of it lay a silver ring adorned with a beautiful emerald. Her eyes went wide as she gasped in excitement.

"Ron, it's beautiful!"

"Yeah, it's a promise ring. Y'know, until we, uh, actually, well…"

She quickly cut off his awkward explanation with an even deeper kiss. But this time they were spotted by two pair of mischievous adolescent eyes.

From the stairs, Jim and Tim chimed in unison, "_Oooh!_ Kim and Ron-nie sittin' in a tree, K-I-S-S-I-N-G!"

Kim blushed, but still had the presence of mind to shoot back a warning. "Back in your rooms, Tweebs! Just wait until _you_ start dating. Then I'll have my _own_ sweet revenge."

She shot them an evil smile which sent them both scurrying back to their rooms in fear.

Ron suddenly looked a bit scared himself. "Ooh, Kim. You looked just like Shego when you did that."

Realizing what he had just said, he desperately tried to backpedal.

"Uh, that is, you sure gave them the totally evil eye just then."

She grinned back at him, a trace of that evil still lingering.

"Yeah. And who do you think I learned that from? Shego gave me a few lessons in exchange for teaching her the fine art of the Puppy Dog Pout."

His face broke out in a mildly goofy look. "Really? And, uh, what _other_ lessons did she give you?"

Kim blushed, and immediately drew her hand back as if to smack him for his lascivious insinuation.

Ron raised a hand to protect himself. "Sorry, sorry! I just couldn't resist!"

Kim giggled, "Okay, Lothario. Let's show Mom and Dad your present."

As they began walking toward the kitchen, a knock was heard at the door. They both stopped and turned.

"Now who could that be this late at night?" Kim queried.

She opened the door. On the porch lay a smallish round box, elegantly gift-wrapped. She looked suspiciously at the tag.

_To Kim Possible: Merry Christmas!_

"Uh, I don't recognize the handwriting, and my weidar just went off."

She stepped out onto the porch and took a quick look around, but no one was to be seen.

Ron chimed in, "Yeah, KP. My spider senses are tingling too."

She cocked an eyebrow at him. "Or whatever your Mystical Monkey Power equivalent is. Well, better safe than sorry."

She activated her Kimmunicator. Her faithful friend and computer genius Wade picked up immediately.

"What's up Kim?"

"Hey Wade. Need a scan on a mysterious present someone just left on my porch. Just to be safe, please and thank you?"

"Sure thing, Kim."

A soft light began to emanate from her Kimmunicator, bathing the cryptic gift in a blue glow.

Wade snickered. "Guys, I don't think you have anything to worry about. I detect candied fruit, nuts and spices all contained within a loaf of banana bread and soaked in rum. Kim, it's a fruitcake."

Ron's reaction was typical, as he instantly blanched and began trembling in horror. "Run for your life, Kim! Fruitcakes are not only beyond wrongsick, they're beyond even gorchy! I've got a real bad feeling about this…"

Kim chuckled, "Amp down, Ron! It's only a fruitcake. I don't know who gave it to me, but if we don't want it, we can always give it to someone else, right?"

He wagged his head in dismay. "Kim, Kim, Kim. Don't you realize how totally impossible that is to do? My folks have had a fruitcake they've been unable to get rid of since before I was born! They are totally evil! Uh, the fruitcake that is, not my folks. They're actually pretty cool. But fruitcakes? Ya just can't get rid of 'em!"

Kim smirked, "Well, we'll just see about _that_. Nothing's impossible for a Possible, remember? We just have to give it to… the right person."

She grinned her Shego smile at Ron. The look chilled him to the bone. He stuttered back, "Well, if you say so, KP. So, who do we start with, friend or foe?"

She thought for a moment, then replied, "How about both?"

"Ooh, a frenemy? Sounds coolio, but that field's still kinda wide. Care to narrow it down, por favor?"

Her smile widened as she began to whisper conspiratorially into his ear...

* * *

_And just who will be the first recipient of this most feared of holiday gifts? Tune in next time for the next chapter in this yuletide saga of evil… Ah Booyah-ho-ho-ho!_


	2. The Gift That Keeps On Giving

_Thanks to Reader101w, Katsumara, MrDrP, Enterprise CV-6, CajunBear73, laranzu, readerjunkie, Sentinel103 and Eddy13 for their kind reviews, and Merry Christmas to all! You may now open your Christmas present to the next installment… _

* * *

Kim and Ron immediately donned their mission outfits, promising Kim's parents that they'd be back as soon as possible. Ron, however, still had his doubts as to the wisdom of Kim's choice of recipient.

"Are you sure you want to do this, KP? We've all finally graduated, and hopefully our paths will never cross again. We may be opening a gorchy can of worms as soon as she opens up that fruitcake. You have no idea what evil mojo you might be setting in motion."

Kim shot him a look through hooded eyes. "Okay, then how about Mr. Barkin instead?"

Ron's mouth dropped open. "Hey, have a heart, KP! I still have to work with him at Smarty Mart, ya know."

Kim gave him her Shego smile.

Ron winced, "Ooh, you know how that freaks me out, Kim."

He let out a sigh of resignation. "Okay, you win. Let's get this over with."

They stealthily approached the front door, taking care to stay in the shadows. Ron stepped down on a stick in the darkness, causing a loud snap. Both of them froze for an instant before quietly continuing.

Kim whispered, "Ron, I know there aren't any traps, lasers or force fields we have to break through, but we really have to keep quiet. We can't risk letting her see us."

Ron grinned back at her. "No problemo, KP. I've got an idea. Allow me."

They both took cover behind some bushes in the front yard. Ron began to glow a faint blue, which actually blended right in with the blue icicle lights which hung from the rafters of their target's house. Using his Mystical Monkey Power, he carefully levitated the fruitcake onto the porch, ringing the doorbell with the evil gift and dropping it onto the doormat. Then they both waited.

A young college-age girl opened the door, immediately spotting the carefully rewrapped package. She smiled as she bent down and picked it up. Looking curiously around, she tried to spot the mysterious gift giver, but without success. She quickly went back inside, closing the door behind her.

Ron whispered, "Wait for it…"

A terrific scream from within pierced the silent night. The front door was flung open as a very upset Bonnie Rockwaller stormed back out onto the porch and angrily yelled into the darkness.

"The loser who gave me this is in _so much trouble!_"

She stomped back inside, slamming the door behind her.

Ron smiled back at Kim.

"A piece of cake, Kim."

Kim winced at the pun, but still smiled back at her BFBF. "Spankin,' Ron! High school evil gets a Christmas payback. Now let's go home."

She huskily whispered in his ear, "And I think I hear some mistletoe calling our name."

Ron perked right up. "Booyah! Right back at you, KP!"

More screams of frustration could be heard from the house as the pair melted back into the night.

Inside, Bonnie continued to fume. "If I ever catch whoever gave this to me, I will so make them _pay!_"

She began to calm down as she tried to think of what to do with the repulsive gift. "Hmm. Still Christmas Eve, and it's real dark out there."

A sly grin came over her face. "Well, I guess one evil turn deserves another. And I have _just_ the target."

She quickly changed into her darkest outfit, replaced the name tag on the gift and jumped into her car. Within a few minutes she had arrived at her destination.

A light was on in the living room of the modest home, where the sound of a Christmas special could be heard on the TV inside. She quickly placed the fruitcake on the porch, rang the doorbell and raced back to her car, roaring off before the occupant had a chance to open the door.

Bonnie snickered, "This'll teach him to spring a pop quiz on the last day of school before graduation…"

Mr. Barkin gruffly opened his front door only to spot a car speeding off into the distance.

"Darn high school punks and their doorbell-ringing pranks! Well, I guess its time to use my Smarty Mart discount and buy that new security system I've been meaning to get."

He was about to close the door when he spotted the colorful package. His face brightened as he picked the box up.

"Well, how thoughtful. I guess I shouldn't have jumped so quickly to any conclusions. I wonder what it is?"

But as he opened the gift, his face darkened again in consternation. He growled, "That's it! Forget the security system. I'm buying an attack dog!"

He went back inside and grumbled to himself, "It took me 25 years to get rid of that last fruitcake. Serves me right for keeping it as a war trophy, I guess. But now who am I going to give this one to? I ran out of possible victims… er, recipients the last time."

He tapped his chin in thought as he wracked his brain for even the slightest possibility. He snapped his fingers as a single name popped into his mind. He recalled reading about a certain villainess who had just been released from prison.

"Hmm. It's a long shot, but anything's worth a try."

He typed in the name on his computer, and soon had an address.

"Yes! And as luck would have it, she's living close by. Sweet…"

A half an hour later, he arrived at his destination, a cheerfully decorated house on the outskirts of Lowerton. Dressed in his old army fatigues and with his face camouflaged with paint, he snuck onto the darkened porch.

He smiled to himself and thought, "_When it comes to stealth, no one can beat Lt. Barkin_. _Just like Operation Nutmeg, 25 years ago_…"

He froze in surprise as the porch light was suddenly flipped on, coming face to face with the equally surprised resident.

"Stevie? Is that you?"

Barkin found himself staring directly into the eyes of DNAmy.

Her effusive smile widened, revealing the trademark gap between her two front teeth. "What on earth are you doing here, you little rascal!"

He tried to think quickly, but only managed to stammer out, "Uh, just dropping by with your Christmas present. Heard you were, uh, out on parole. Just wanted to say no hard feelings for genetically fusing me with that naked mole rat of Stoppable's. Merry Christmas!"

He thrust the gift into her hand and raced toward his car.

"Wait, Stevie! I can make us some hot cocoa!"

But with a squeal of tires, he roared off in his desperate attempt to get away as fast as possible.

"Hmm. I wonder why that naughty, naughty man had to just run off like that? And why was he gallivanting around in that green and black makeup? That's _so_ not his color. Oh well…"

DNAmy went back inside and opened her gift. She let out a little yelp when she saw what it was.

"Why, that meanie! Inflicting a fruitcake on a poor defenseless ex-con trying to make a new start in life."

But a curious look began to appear on her face as she began to recall something. "But on the other hand…"

She hurried downstairs to her secret genetics lab and quickly pulled an ancient scroll from the shelf. She had obtained it from Monkey Fist's former servant, Bates, just the day before. Quickly blowing the dust from the mystical manuscript, she began eagerly reading.

"Yes… yes! The very ingredients listed here are the same as those in a fruitcake!"

She gazed longingly over at the statue of Montgomery Fiske that she had carefully stored away in the basement before her most recent incarceration.

"Ooh, honey-bunny! It's time to come back to Momma!"

A few minutes later, Monkey Fist stumbled out of DNAmy's Genomic Sequencer amidst a huge cloud of smoke.

DNAmy purred, "Well, hello there, sugar booger!"

Monkey Fist looked aghast at the lovesick geneticist. "What in the world am I doing here? The last thing I remember, I was dusting off a shelf for the hundredth time in Yono's temple."

He winced as DNAmy laughed. Her cackle was like fingernails down a chalkboard.

"It seems that I've brought you back from the dead, sweetums. You can thank my Genomic Sequencer, a mystical scroll I got from Bates, and a small piece of fruitcake."

He was thankful to be alive again, but the memory of being relentlessly pursued by DNAmy made him reconsider if he hadn't been better off back in Yono's mystical lair. Suddenly, he began to feel a strange sensation.

"Well, that's all fine and good, but suddenly I feel like a piece of fruitcake."

She giggled, "There's plenty more of it if you really want a piece. I only needed to use a smidge to reanimate you."

"No, I mean I actually feel like a piece of fruitcake. It's an odd sensation."

DNAmy clapped her hands together in glee. "Well, if it brought you back to life, you should be thankful, shouldn't you, honey bunny?"

"This is Christmas, not Thanksgiving, my lovesick loon. But it _does_ remind me of another ancient scroll that I read once, perchance."

His face brightened with the evil possibilities. He grabbed the fruitcake and ran for the door.

"Thanks nevertheless, however. But evil monkey business awaits! So, tah-tah for now…"

And with that, he escaped as quickly as his monkey paws could take him.

24 hours later, Monkey Fist stopped in front of a non-descript Tokyo storefront. He compared the Kanji inscription on the sign to the scroll he held tightly in his hand, and smiled.

"Yes, this must be the place. Embarrassment Ninjas have always had a unique logo, and this scroll matches the advertisement perfectly."

He cheerfully entered the establishment and asked the receptionist, "Your manager, please?"

She politely asked, "And who may I say wishes to see him?"

"An old friend, and with a lucrative business proposition."

She bowed slightly and disappeared into the adjoining office. A moment later, a young but hardened ninja appeared directly behind him, as if out of nowhere.

"And who might you be, outsider?"

Monkey Fist quickly spun around at the sound of the ninja's voice. "Ah, Fukushima, my dear friend! Long time no see. So, how have you been?"

Fukushima remained motionless, his face revealing no emotion. But his eyes were like two hot coals that seemed to burn their way into Monkey Fist's very soul.

"Monkey Fist. The person responsible for my being expelled from Yamanouchi. State your business."

"I have a wonderful proposition for you, my dear ninja. One that might even lead to a bit of revenge for your pleasure and edification, just to sweeten the deal."

Fukushima still did not move. "I have been able to overcome most of the dishonor from my last ill-fated adventure with you by joining the Embarrassment Ninjas. Through hard work, I have even become their manager. It has become somewhat lucrative, so I am not willing to take a risk on any ill-advised undertaking that would endanger my present success."

Monkey Fist nodded. "Yes, of course. But what if it involved some payback, shall we say, to a certain secret ninja school?"

Fukushima's eyes widened almost imperceptibly.

"Go on."

"A particular item has recently come into my possession that might allow us to breach the walls of that haughty academy of higher education, and enable me to regain the Lotus Blade. It would not only be a significant _embarrassment_ to Yamanouchi, but you'd also be well paid for your efforts."

Fukushima began to smile as his eyes began to burn even more fiercely. He motioned to the next room and said, "Won't you please step into my office?"

Monkey Fist bowed his head, rubbing his monkey paws together in evil glee.

* * *

_And what devious plans can this reunion portend? Just stay tuned for the next episode… Merry Christmas to all!  
_


	3. Fruitcake: Foiled Again

_Happy Holidays to all in the Kimmunity, especially those who have left reviews: MrDrP, Reader101w, Muzzlehatch, Katsumara, CajunBear73, Enterprise CV-6, Krystalslazz, Sentinel103, Eddy13, and readerjunkie. And now for the next installment about that gorchy gift that just keeps on being given…_

* * *

On a snowy hill just outside of Yamanouchi, a small band of evildoers trudged through the freshly fallen snow. With each step, their feet crunched through the surface to the icy layer beneath.

Monkey Fist frowned at the sound. "Stealth is essential, Fukushima."

Fukushima narrowed his eyes. "And you're telling this to a ninja because…"

He let the sarcasm hang in the air a moment before continuing to labor up the increasingly steep mountainside.

"Now, you are sure this is going to work? I would not like to repeat my last time here with another defeat."

The simian glowed with confidence. "Victory is assured, my young friend. One blow from this fruitcake will be more than enough to smash through the oaken door of the main hall, where the Lotus Blade is kept. And once that mystical weapon is in my possession, nothing will be able to stop us!" He let out a monkey howl of glee to underscore his brashness.

Fukushima remained unconvinced. "Perhaps, but I hardly see how a single fruitcake could cause the requisite damage."

Monkey Fist began to lecture, "When launched by their powerful catapults, the fruitcake was one of the most effective projectiles traditionally used by the Romans."

Fukushima snorted in disbelief. "And where did you hear of _that_ myth? I find your story as hard to swallow as the fruitcake itself."

Monkey Fist frowned. "Let's just say I had plenty of down time while dusting Yono's endless bookshelves, and took it upon myself to study his treasure trove of military as well as mystical history. Additionally, I've imbued this particular fruitcake with a special ingredient: Mystical Monkey Power! And when our own catapult is assembled, my mystically-enhanced fruitcake will be virtually unstoppable!"

Behind them trudged Monkey Fist's monkey ninjas, each carrying a piece of the catapult with which they would carry out the attack. Soon they were in place on the ridge overlooking the main hall, under excellent cover as well as having a perfect vantage point.

"It will only take a few minutes to assemble, then we launch our assault. And I promise that this will look _very_ good on your next résumé, Fukushima."

The ninja brightened. "Then perhaps you could finally write that recommendation for me for graduate school?"

Monkey Fist smugly replied, "Let's not get ahead of ourselves. First the catapult, then…"

From out of nowhere, a single banana suddenly plopped onto the snow. The monkey ninjas immediately ceased their construction work, ran up and sniffed at the fruit. Then another banana fell, followed by a third. Instantly, they began screaming and fighting among themselves over the unexpected manna that had just apparently fallen from heaven.

Monkey Fist growled, "What exactly is going on here? It's almost as if…"

All at once the falling tropical fruit was replaced by falling rocks, which quickly smashed the nearly completed catapult.

"…as if we were under attack ourselves!"

"Quite correct, Monkey Fist."

The half-simian spun around at the sound of that unpleasantly familiar voice. He smiled grimly.

"Sensei! I should have guessed."

The wizened leader of the secret school of the art of Ninjutsu stood barely twenty paces away, gracing him with an imperceptible smile of his own.

"It appears that you and Fukushima are not the only ones with a catapult. And it is perfectly trained on your not-so-perfect hiding place. Surrender would now be the honorable course of action."

Monkey Fist bellowed, "Surrender? How little you know me, my dear Sensei. My catapult may be wrecked, but you won't find us that easy to defeat! Monkey ninjas, _attack!_"

But his monkey minions remained quietly sitting in the snow, each now contentedly munching on his own banana, oblivious to everyone else around them.

"Hmm. Remind me to feed them _before_ we go on our next expedition."

Another voice spoke from behind them. "There will be no next expedition, Monkey Fist. It will be my honor to cut off your only route of escape."

He wagged his head at the beautiful female ninja, clad in an all-white _gi_ which blended in perfectly with the snow.

"Ah, my dear Yori, so it would appear. And even without the help of the _cheer squad_. But you forget that I still wield… _this!_"

And with all the force he could muster, Monkey Fist hurled the fruitcake directly at Yori. But without so much as a blink, the ever-prepared ninja instantly drew her samurai sword, deftly impaling the disgusting cake on its tip.

Now without the fruitcake or any other weapon, he hastily yelled, "Monkey ninjas, _retreat!_ That goes for you too, Fukushima, unless you're planning to re-enroll here."

Fukushima's face dropped. "I think not, Outsider. Look."

The mountain around them was now covered with the entire complement of the ninja school, led by a smiling Hirotaka. They were completely surrounded. There would be no escape this time.

Monkey Fist sighed heavily in resignation as he turned to Yori. "Tell me, how did you discover us so quickly?"

She smiled and responded, "Fukushima failed to notice that the temp he hired at his Embarrassment Ninja agency was actually _me_. It was my honor to discover the plot and devise a counterstrike."

Monkey Fist gave a sardonic chuckle. "Ah, the best laid plans of monkeys and men, undone by a Ninja Girl Friday…"

As the evildoers were led away in chains, Yori turned to Sensei. "And what shall we do with this American-style baked good of evil? I know that Stoppable-san would consider it great offense if we were to re-gift this baneful foodstuff to him."

Sensei smoothed his beard as he considered her question. "True, Yori-chan. But we cannot keep it here. Its inherent evil would no doubt have a deleterious effect on the Lotus Blade, not to mention Monkey Fist's mystical enhancements."

Hirotaka then spoke up. "Sensei, perhaps we can kill two birds with one stone, as they say in America."

Sensei raised one curious eyebrow. "And what would you suggest, Hirotaka-san? I am well aware of your… _unique_ sense of humor, so I am certain your suggestion will be quite entertaining."

He whispered his idea into Sensei's ear. In a rare display of humor, Sensei broke out in a terrific belly laugh, causing everyone to stop and stare.

"Hirotaka-san, you bring tears of laughter to my old and wrinkled eyes. Your solution is both elegant and ironic. And much deserved, as your choice's acrimonious relationship with both Stoppable-san and Kim-chan has proven over the years."

He turned to Fukushima and intoned, "Although you have dishonored yourself once again, we will absolve you of this most recent crime, if you will perform one simple duty for us. As you are now an Embarrassment Ninja, this task will be perfectly suited for your unique talents. We will even provide the necessary transportation for you."

He whispered the person's name and location into Fukushima's ear. Fukushima smiled and nodded in agreement.

"It will be my honor, Sensei. It shall be done as you wish."

12 hours later, Fukushima arrived at the Middleton International Airport. Getting the fruitcake through customs had proven difficult but not impossible for the crafty ninja. As soon as he exited the gate, one of Yamanouchi's ninjas instantly appeared, providing him with the keys to a rented car, then immediately vanished.

A half hour later, another terrific scream was heard, the second one in recent days from this particular home.

"What is with this flippin' fruitcake? I just can't seem to get rid of it! What am I, cursed or something? And why would he do this to me? I thought I was his number-one girlfriend!"

Bonnie looked again at the tag.

"_Love and kisses, Hirotaka._"

She sighed, "Well, maybe he would have felt different if I hadn't dumped him for Brick right after he left. But I thought he'd be so _over _that by now…"

Just then, the doorbell rang. Bonnie went to answer it, hopeful for some better news. She wasn't disappointed.

"Junior! I wasn't expecting you until New Year's Eve!"

She planted a big kiss on him, the fruitcake momentarily forgotten.

He smiled back down at her. "Ah, my sweetness! Apologies for not calling, but my audition for Rick Clerk's Rockin' New Year's Eve was somehow accidentally canceled."

He breathed a small sigh of disappointment. "I tried to reschedule, but they said they had enough talent at the moment, so better luck next year."

Bonnie fawned, "Oh, my poor sweet baby! You must be so sad to have your hopes dashed like that!"

He offered a half-hearted shrug. "Well, I suppose I am used to that by now. But just who is this Lady Gogo that will be singing on his special? She is appearing to wear traffic cones with sparklers on them to cover up her…"

He stopped in mid-sentence as he spotted Bonnie's gift on the table.

"Ah, a fruitcake! My favorite holiday treat!"

Bonnie was astounded. "What, you actually _like _fruitcake?"

"Yes! And Father will be so pleased when we share it with him this evening at our island lair!"

Bonnie's grin widened as she realized that she'd soon be free of the fruitcake, hopefully for good. But when they finally arrived at the Senior's luxurious European island, the look of total disgust on Señor Senior Senior's face told them exactly what he thought of the gift.

"My son, not even the koi would eat this revolting food. And the piranhas would no doubt tear apart anyone so foolish as to even get it near them."

Junior was horrified at his father's response. "But Father! It is a gift from the heart of my main squeeze! You will hurt her ever so sensitive feelings!"

Bonnie dismissively waved a hand. "Hey, as long as you don't make me take it back, no big, as Kim would say."

Señor Senior Senior frowned, but nodded. "No, that would be ungentlemanly of me. So we must confer this vile loaf on yet another victim. It is a holiday tradition, yes?"

The Machiavellian wheels of evil began turning in his mind as he let out a soft, slow cackle.

"Now, we must carefully consider our target, eh? An evil target, one so evil that they might truly consider it as a gift from us, and not be tempted to return it."

Junior's hand shot up as if he were in class. "Ooh! Ooh! Father! I have the perfect person! That nice lady with the green flamy hands that you hired to give me lessons in evil!"

Señor Senior Senior pleasantly stroked his chin as he considered his son's suggestion. "Yes, I think that would do quite nicely. I will simply add a note stating that the fruitcake is her… _Christmas bonus_ for her past services so excellently rendered. And I will have it sent overnight express rather than delivering it personally. That plasma of hers can be quite dangerous you know, yes?"

His eyes suddenly widened as he was struck by an even more diabolical idea. "On second thought, perhaps I will simply send it in the name of our eternal nemesis, Miss Kimberly Ann Possible. Divide and conquer, don't you agree, my son?"

"Ooh, yes, father! Just like the saying goes, the 'friend of my enemy is my friend!' "

"No, my son, that's 'the _enemy_ of my enemy is my friend.' "

"Uh, isn't it 'the friend of my enemy is my enemy?' Or was it 'the friendly enemy of my enemy's friend is your best friend's enemy?' "

Señor Senior Senior sighed deeply as he left the room in search of some wrapping paper, and some aspirin.

* * *

_Stay tuned for the final installment of this fearsome fruitcake fantasy: _"_Shego Baby,_"_ or, _"_I'm Dreaming of a Green Christmas!_"


	4. I'm Dreaming of a Green Christmas

_Happy New Year to all, and special thanks to Katsumara, Stormchaser90, Feudor, readerjunkie, CajunBear73, Sentinel103, Reader101w, Eddy13 and SwampFoxTheThird for their kind reviews. And now for the nutty conclusion to my farcical fruitcake fantasy…_

* * *

Since going straight after helping to defeat the Lorwardian invasion of many months before, Dr. Drakken and Shego had dropped out of the public eye. Things had remained rather quiet at the lair, and this New Year's Eve looked like it would remain likewise peaceful. And although he still continued to sprout foliage after being accidentally exposed to his super plant mutagen, other things were now blooming for the former villain as well.

"Well, Dr. D, congratulations. Six months in the same lair, and it's still standing. Never thought I'd see the day."

Drew Lipsky smiled back at his former partner in crime, and his new partner in other ways. "Yes, Shego, it is a rather… unique anniversary, isn't it?'

"Yeah, now that Princess and her sidekick aren't climbing through our ventilation shafts every other week and blowing up the place. But I do miss the fights. Kimmie always kept me on my toes, and that definitely kept me in shape."

Drew graced her with an even more ingratiating smile. "And that shape still looks good to me, my dear."

One of his vines sprouted a tiny sprig of mistletoe, which inched its way directly over Shego's head. But instead of pulling away, she returned his effort with a gentle kiss.

"Ya know, Doc, that used to creep me out."

Drew continued the thought. "But now that our romance is… _budding_…"

Shego rolled her eyes at the pun. "Oh, puh-_leeze_. Your attempts at being witty are just as lame as ever."

He feigned being hurt. "And you still can be lippy at times."

She grinned back, "Yeah, but I think I'll still keep you. For the moment, at least."

He ignored her gentle jibe as he thought back over the past six months. "Yes, not constantly having to look over our shoulders has certainly been quite a relief. And instead of trying to take over the world, I've busied myself with my botanical research projects. I still haven't found a cure for my continual flowering, but those government grants have definitely kept us comfortable."

Shego quickly added, "Yeah, and let's not forget my rather large bank account and stellar credit rating."

He wagged a finger in mock warning. "Now, now, Shego. Global Justice was rather kind to let you keep all of your accumulated loot. Just their way of saying thanks for your part in saving the world from those Lorwardians, I suppose."

She nodded in agreement, but then let out a long, deep sigh.

Drew looked concerned. "Is something wrong?"

He suddenly had a horrible thought. He whimpered, "I… I haven't forgotten your birthday again, have I?"

Shego chuckled, "No, nothing like that. You're still _alive_, aren't you?" She flashed him her signature evil smile.

Drew instantly paled. "You _know_ how that freaks me out when you do that, don't you?"

"Yeah, and that's why I do it. Just to keep you in line in case you ever have any second thoughts."

The last bit of blood drained from Drew's face.

Her smile warmed up a bit. "Just pullin' your leg, Doc. You're the only one for me now, honest."

Drew visibly relaxed.

She gave a small shrug. "But it's just not the same as it used to be. Don't get me wrong, it's great not having half the world pursuing us. And I certainly don't miss what was becoming my permanent bunk back in Cell Block D. But I miss the thrill and excitement of yet another one of your hare-brained schemes to take over the world, and the anticipation of blasting something with my plasma…"

Drew suddenly yelled out, "Shego, _attack!_"

She reacted automatically, launching a powerful bolt of green plasma into the far wall. She sighed contentedly.

"Thanks, Doc. You really know how to make a girl feel better."

He grinned back, "My pleasure. And I suppose I miss the excitement of our former evil lifestyle as well. But as the saying goes, be careful what you wish for. Take it from me, what you actually get might not be what you expected."

Just then, the doorbell rang.

Shego wondered, "Now who in the heck could that be?"

Drew whispered back, "If it's my mother, _I'm not here_…"

Shego activated the autoviewer. "Looks like a delivery boy."

She answered the door, and he handed her a package.

"Sign here, please."

She used her finger to sign with her plasma, and began to close the door.

"What, no tip?"

She charged her hand up with a whoosh.

"Uh, never mind. Happy New Year!"

She grinned back, "Same to you."

As the delivery boy beat a hasty retreat, Shego opened the package.

She froze.

She slowly counted to ten, but her anger failed to decrease. If anything, it intensified.

Drew was now petrified. "Wha.. what is it, my angel?"

She spat back, "A fruitcake. And it's from Possible."

He jumped up from his chair. "What? You mean Kimberly Ann! And after all we've done for her! Well, over the past six months I mean…"

She sneered back, "One in the same. And this is the thanks I get? _Especially_ after I taught her the secret of the Shego Smile…"

She tossed the despicable item onto the floor and launched her most powerful plasma blast in recent memory. It took nearly a minute for the automatic fans to clear the smoke from the twenty-foot deep crater.

But the fruitcake remained. If it had been sentient, it would have smiled back at her.

Shego stared at it in speechless disbelief as wisps of smoke continued to eddy throughout the lair. But Drew found the words to express what they were both now feeling.

"This… this is unbelievable! Unconscionable! Antiforgivnitastically incrediblastic!"

"You're babbling again, Doc." Shego's eyes narrowed. "But this _really_ cuts it, so I'm right with you. Little Miss Priss has definitely crossed the line this time."

Their eyes locked as Drakken intoned, "You know what we have to do."

Shego nodded. "Yeah. Return it. And with extreme prejudice."

* * *

It was nearly midnight, but no lights could be seen from within the Possible household.

Drakken whispered to Shego, "Perhaps they're all out for the evening."

Shego snarled back, "Yeah, maybe. Which would be really good, given these ridiculous disguises."

She frowned at her skimpy green elf costume with the perky, offset cap, but couldn't help but laugh at Drakken's Santa Claus outfit. The suit was too baggy and the fake white beard hung haphazardly from his ears.

He muttered back, "Well, sorry, but it was the best I could do on such short notice."

His nervousness had also gotten the best of him, and he continued to sprout new flower petals quicker than he could pull them out, adding to his ridiculous appearance.

"Hmm. I suppose I should have practiced sprouting poinsettias instead."

"Ya think? Well, let's get this over with. I'm freezing in this silly getup."

They cautiously approached the Possible house, and nothing was stirring, not even a mouse. Shego found a side window and used a concentrated burst of plasma to pry it open. They climbed inside as quietly as they could, and quickly found the living room. The lights on the Christmas tree lit the room with their soft glow.

Drakken hissed triumphantly, "Their tree is still up, Shego! All we need to do is place the fruitcake under it, marked 'Return To Sender,' and our job is done!"

But no sooner had he placed the item beneath the tree than the lights were suddenly turned on, catching the two interlopers in the act.

"Freeze, you two!"

Officer Hobble and the Middleton SWAT team had the drop on them, backed up by Kim and Ron.

Drakken smiled back weakly. "Uh, you mean this _isn't_ the JC Nickels return window?"

Kim glared back at them with folded arms. "Good try, Drakken, but no cigar."

"But how did you know we'd be coming? We were just dropping off this, uh, _gift _for you."

He tried handing the fruitcake to Kim, but she just kept her arms folded.

She smirked, "Wade had the fruitcake chipped, just in case anyone tried to pawn the thing back on us. He tracked it approaching us directly from your lair, so we thought we had better be prepared for anything."

Upon hearing the mention of food, Rufus popped out of Ron's pocket and eagerly tore into the package.

"_Mmm!_ _Fruitcake!_"

He quickly nibbled a piece, but just as quickly spat it back out in disgust, making a sour face.

"_Bleah!_"

Still trying to play innocent, Shego asked, "So, what seems to be the problem, Officer?"

Hobble began counting off the charges.

"How about unlawful transportation of a fruitcake across county lines for starters? You can also add a drive-by fruitcaking, and top it off with the most serious charge: breaking and entering with intent to terrorize with a fruitcake."

Shego shot Kim a scathing look. "Well, if Cupcake here hadn't given it to us in the first place, this little visit wouldn't have been necessary."

Now it was Kim's turn to be surprised. "Whoa, time out! What do you mean if _I_ hadn't given it to you?"

"Here, take a look."

Shego showed her the previous gift tag, which clearly read: "_To Shego and Dr. Drakken. Merry Christmas, Kim Possible."_

Kim looked perplexed. "Yup, that's what it says all right, but that's not my handwriting."

She grabbed her Kimmunicator. "Wade, how's your handwriting analysis?"

The teen computer expert smiled. "Well, I'd be happy to _address_ whatever the problem is."

"Very funny, Wade. Just scan this tag and tell us anything you can about it."

A soft blue light enveloped the tiny note. Wade's answer was immediate.

"Well, I can't positively ID the writer, but it's definitely not your handwriting, Kim. And the script has distinctly male characteristics."

Kim nodded. "So it's clearly a forgery, then. How about the tag itself?"

"The pH balance of the tag indicates exposure to a humid and salty marine environment. And get this, there's a smudge of Le Goop on the corner."

Kim, Ron and Shego chimed together in unison, "Junior!"

Kim laughed. "Jinx! We _all _owe each other a soda!"

Shego relaxed. "And we owe you an apology for trying to palm this freakin' fruitcake off on you."

The teen heroine smiled at the former villainess and gave a gentle shrug. "No harm done, Shego. Under the circumstances, I can certainly understand your reaction."

Shego slyly said, "So, Kimmie, what's our next move?"

Kim's eyes narrowed. "I think a visit to a certain European island may be in our immediate future."

Shego happily rubbed her hands together. "For some payback, perhaps?"

Both women broke out in a wickedly evil smile, while Ron and Drakken both quaked in fear.

Ron whispered, "Does that freak you out as much as it does me?"

Drakken whispered back, "Even more, if that's possible."

Kim turned to the police. "Well, Officer Hobble, it looks like this was a set up deviously designed to pit us against each other. But I think we can take it from here, if you don't mind?"

The officer scratched his chin as he thought it over. "Well, if you're not going to press charges…"

Both Kim and Shego gave him a perfect Puppy Dog Pout, and he instantly caved. "It's a bit out of the ordinary, but being that it's your house, I think we can let it slip this time, Miss Possible. Let's go, men."

And with a tip of his cap he excused himself and the SWAT team, who looked quite relieved that they weren't in fact going up against Shego and Drakken today. "And a Happy New Year to you all."

After they left, Drakken spoke up. "My air car just got out of the shop, so if you ladies would care to make a little trip to the Senior's island…"

Shego half-jokingly shot back, "Hey! Who are you calling a lady?"

Drakken sputtered, "Well, I just thought, er, that, uh…"

Kim giggled. "You still like jerking his chain, don't you?"

Shego laughed, "What do you think?"

Suddenly, a bright light from far off began to glow in the night. A low rumble was heard as it approached, steadily increasing in intensity. They all rushed into the front yard.

Kim quipped, "Uh, something tells me that isn't exactly the Star of Bethlehem…"

The roar of the enormous spacecraft was now deafening, and its configuration was of unmistakable design. The Lorwardians had returned.

With a smug look, Shego crossed her arms. "Looks like our alien friends didn't learn their lesson the last time, eh, Dr. D?"

But Drakken could only look on in fear. "Oh, snap."

Ron wasted no time in activating his Mystical Monkey Power. Now glowing bright blue, he growled through gritted teeth, "Well, we kicked their alien butts before, and we can do it again."

As the gigantic ship hovered in midair, fierce blue electrical discharges danced back and forth between the craft's massive disruptor banks. A hologram appeared before them, and a swarthy Lorwardian began to speak.

"This is Warvulture of the Lorwardian dreadnought _Revenge_. Prepare to be escorted back to Lorwardia for trial and execution. You are charged with destroying Lorwardian property and terminating the lives of our greatest warriors, Warmonga and Warhok!"

Kim snarked back, "Hey, _you_ invaded _us_, remember? Not exactly our fault for defending ourselves."

Ron chimed in, "Yeah, you tell 'em, KP! But how about a little gift first, from us to you?"

He picked up the fruitcake with a tendril of his Mystical Monkey Power and flung it with tremendous force directly at the spacecraft. But just before it hit, a blue tractor beam lanced out and plucked it from the air. Within moments, it had been taken aboard.

Warvulture broke out in a derisive laugh. "Well, what have we here? Another pitiful human weapon? We laugh at your pathetic attempt to damage our greatest warcraft with such a puny object!"

Suddenly, the alien captain's second-in-command began urgently whispering in his ear. A look of surprise appeared on Warvulture's face. "Stand by, please."

Shego's eyebrows shot up in surprise. "Whoa, what's the Ronster done now?"

Ron shrugged. "I dunno, but whatever I did, it's sure got their attention."

A minute later, the Commander reappeared, his countenance totally transformed from fierce anger to one of benign contentment.

"We… we may have seriously misunderstood your intent. What exactly do you call this delicacy that you have so graciously given us?"

Kim cocked an eyebrow. She cautiously responded, "Uh, we call it fruitcake."

His voice boomed back, "I call it… _the_ _Food of the Gods! _We had no idea your culinary technology was so incredibly advanced! Our… our apologies for this recent incursion. Where may we obtain more of this incredible substance?"

Ron whispered, "Wow, KP. A polite Lorwardian! What's the universe coming to?"

Kim smiled at the unexpected diplomatic opportunity. "We have tons of it here on Earth, but no one here really likes it all that much."

Drakken quickly hissed, "Ixnay on the ike-lay, Kimberly Ann. This could be our golden opportunity to kill two birds with one fruitcake."

Kim immediately backpedaled. "That is to say, no one on Earth really likes to part with, uh, such spankin' cuisine. But perhaps we could work out some kind of… trade agreement?"

A huge smile broke out on the Lorwardian's face. "Agreed! We will send a diplomatic mission back to your planet in seven of your Earth days to begin both peace and trade negotiations."

And with a thunderous roar, the Lorwardian dreadnought picked up speed and was soon headed back into space.

Ron shook his head in wonder. "Man, KP, talk about a badical outcome! We give them our wrongsick fruitcakes and we get an interstellar peace treaty! How coolio is _that_?"

Kim answered with more than just a little relief. "Well, that's probably the best trade off the Earth has ever gotten in its entire history. But there's just one question I have now."

"What's that, KP?"

"Who gave us this fruitcake in the first place, and why?"

Ron winced. "Uh, that's _two_ questions, Kim..."

Rufus giggled in agreement.

Shego spoke up. "Well, let's ponder that mystery while we take our little excursion to the Senior's island. My hands are just itching for some plasmatic target practice…"

Meanwhile, deep within the darkened corridors of Middleton High, a fearsome librarian with horn-rimmed glasses closed the door to her office and prepared to send a secret message to the Worldwide Evil Empire.

Her raspy voice croaked out, "Hatchet to Gemini, Hatchet to Gemini, come in please. Operation Fruitcake has failed. Repeat, failed. Now instituting our fallback plan, Operation Figgy Pudding…"

_**The End?**_


End file.
